The Story of Lansing Lotte

by L. B. Dunbar

  “Don’t look,” she demanded, but it was too late. Her apartment was smaller than mine and didn’t have an entry hall like mine did. She was practically in the living space when she told us not to look. Her arms were hanging with bags and she appeared like she might topple over.

  “What did you do?” I laughed.

  “I think I went a little crazy.”

  She carried everything into her room and when I followed she rounded on me.

  “Out,” she demanded playfully. Moments later she entered the living room with only two bags. I pretended to reach for one and she smacked my hand.

  “Tomorrow.”

  “What’s tomorrow?” I looked at her puzzled.

  “Christmas Eve, silly,” Fleur said.

  “Silly? Did she just call me silly? Me? Silly?”

  Fleur squealed as I reach for her and tickled her tiny ribs. She kicked and laughed, and it was the greatest sound I’d ever heard next to the laughter of Lila.

  “Stop. Stop. Stop,” Fleur screeched with mirth, as she twisted this way and that. I did stop eventually, when I had her lifted upright. Although, I’d picked Fleur up plenty of times and kissed her sweetly, I wasn’t prepared for the hug that sprang on me. She was holding my neck tightly; as if she was afraid I was going to go away. I looked at Lila over Fleur’s little shoulder, questioning her as the hug lingered. Lila looked just as puzzled and her face softened until it almost looked concerned. Slowly Fleur loosened her hold as I placed my hands on her tiny sides. Whatever the moment was, it passed as Fleur asked if we could order pizza for dinner.

  Traditions are hard when you’re filled with grief and new ones need to be made. Not to eradicate the old but just to rebuild anew. The holiday was going to be created from new traditions. I came from a family with customs for when to put up a tree, where to buy one, and how to decorate it. That year it was all gone. Every Christmas decoration I owned was in a storage unit in the basement, and I didn’t have the heart to dig them out. I wanted to start fresh. Even though I didn’t believe Lansing Lotte would be any part of future traditions, I was willing to allow him in the building of this year’s.

  First off, after my grand entrance of confusion and then the strange hug from Fleur to Lansing, I was finally able to notice one rather large item to the side of my living space.

  “You bought me a table,” I said a bit confused.

  “Merry Christmas,” Lansing said sheepishly.

  “You bought me a table? For Christmas?” I asked again.

  “You don’t like it?” he said, sliding his hands into his jean pockets.

  I stared at the table. It was a beautiful cherry wood with six chairs. It seemed a bit grandiose for just Fleur and I, but it was gorgeous and I did appreciate the gesture.

  “It’s only part of your present,” he said sheepishly. I sensed I hurt his feelings. I approached him, as Fleur had gone to her room after the tickle-fest turned hug, and I slipped my arms around him. I hadn’t been the one to touch him first, yet. I saw his eyes brighten the moment my hands caressed up his chest and over his shoulders.

  “I love it,” I said, breathily. “It’s gorgeous.”

  “Mmmmm…so are you,” he said, instantly tugging me by my hips up against him and kissing me breathless. The way he kissed was tender but demanding. He wanted all of my lips at once and he took, and took, and took, and I gave in. I melted against him. He started to bend me over, so we matched up to one another. I moaned as my center met his hard length and my fingers curled through his belt loop to draw him tighter against me.

  “Mr. Lansing, why are you kissing Lila?”

  Our kiss broke so quickly we made a popping sound. Lansing looked down at me as if he was Santa caught kissing mommy under the Christmas tree.

  “She has new lip gloss, and I wanted to see if it was really peppermint flavor,” he said, his eyes still bright. The evidence of his excitement was still visibly present as he held his back to Fleur.

  “Ewww…” she said, and I laughed, resting my head forward onto his chest.

  “Busted,” he whispered then added, “I need a minute.” He walked around me and entered my room, closing the door behind him.

  I ordered pizza and poured myself a glass of wine with shaky hands. I don’t know why I was so nervous or upset that Fleur had seen us. She was only four, but I didn’t want her getting attached. I didn’t want her misunderstanding what Lansing and I were doing. I didn’t think Fleur knew much about kissing, couples, parents, or any of that. She only had a single mother. I’d like to think Sara didn’t bring men home when she was alive, but I couldn’t be sure. Fleur would have been under two, though, so she wouldn’t have remembered anything, anyway.

  Lansing had disappeared for longer than I expected. Eventually. I entered my room to find him on the phone.

  “No, I can’t come there.”

  Pause.

  “Yes, I’m staying here.”

  Pause.

  “I’m not going there for Christmas.”

  Pause.

  “I’ll see you at the party.”

  I was trying to step back out of the room, when I walked into the door jamb, kicking the trim. Lansing’s head spun in my direction from where he stood looking out my window.

  “I gotta go,” he said into the phone, as his bright eyes watched me. “Merry Christmas,” he mumbled, then clicked it off.

  “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just wanted to make sure you where okay.”

  I looked down at the floor like a repentant child. I was about to reattempt my exit when I felt his presence in front of me. His whole hand cupped my cheek and I lifted my head to him.

  “I’m more than okay, Lila. More than I deserve to be okay.” He kissed me sweetly, but not lingering like I wanted for reassurance of his words. He slipped a hand down to my lower back and guided me out of the room.

  It was hours later; we had turned off the living room lights and lit the tree to find a backdrop of snow falling outside the broad window. I didn’t have window treatments yet, and the landscape outside was a beautiful natural filter. It was all Hallmark with the glistening tree and the reflecting snow. I’d had more than my share of wine and was feeling warm and comfortable on the couch next to Lansing.

  He’d told me about seeing Ana and explained that he was on the phone with Kaye earlier. Some people were going to get together at The Round Table for Christmas, but he didn’t want to go. I didn’t press the issue. I figured if he wanted to leave he would tell me. He also explained that there was a party the day after Christmas – Boxing Day. He said it was band tradition, and Perk and Tristan refused to miss. Held at Tristan’s, Lansing promised to be there. He rubbed my leg slowly as he spoke and my thoughts detracted with the sensation. I couldn’t imagine a rock star finding it cozy to cuddle on the couch and talk. My mind worried that he was out of his element.

  “What’s going on?” he asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re shutting down on me.”

  I giggled. I don’t know how he guessed it. It wasn’t really that I was shutting down so much as it was that I was getting turned on by his constant stroking of my thigh. It seemed so old-school compared to what I imagined would turn him on.

  “That’s not it,” I said with a laugh. His palm flattened and he stroked higher.

  “What is it then?” he said slowly, seductively, as his hand drew upward. My pulse heightened in more than one place. The lingering touch of his fingers made me feel him everywhere, but there was one place on my body that desired him the most.

  He slipped off the couch and knelt before me. I brushed my fingers through his hair and his eyes closed at my touch. He moaned.

  “You like it when I do that, don’t you?”

  “I do,” he sighed with another sound of pleasure.

  “What else do you like?” I boldly asked.

  His eyes sprang open.

  “I like you, Lila.”

  It was sweet and it surprised
me. I leaned forward to kiss him softly, but he was having none of that. Those tender firm kisses began the moment my mouth hit his, and I was warm all over. I wanted to blame it on the wine, but I couldn’t. The heat was in me. Kinetic energy and all that. I was going to combust if he didn’t touch me.

  My hands slid over his shoulders and his hands curved around my hips. He dragged me forcefully toward him then shifted me so I lay on the floor. Fortunately, I had a rug covering the floors and it softened the hard wood. Lansing continued to kiss me, letting his hand lazily scan over me. First my hair, then my neck. Over my shoulders and through the valley between my breasts. He slipped under the mountain of my heavy breasts, across my flat stomach to his favorite peaks, my hipbones. I don’t know what the attraction was, but he loved to slip his hands over them.

  Finding my jeans in his way, he unbuttoned them and slipped his hand inside to touch my warm hips with his hotter hands. He sat up a bit and reached over his head to yank his shirt forward. His bare chest brushed mine only seconds later, as he returned to kissing me and discovering parts of my body. He wasn’t touching anywhere essential, but mapping a course over my skin, under my shirt, just inside my jeans, at the top of my underwear. I was squirming as I needed relief. I needed him to touch me or I needed to touch him.

  “Where’s the fire?” he said against my mouth

  “In my pants,” I mumbled with a giggle.

  He made quick work of undoing my zipper and sliding my jeans down off my ankles. He returned to kiss me and my bare legs wrapped over his. I ground into him with my thin cotton panties and he bit my lower lip.

  “You keep pressing into me like that and it will lead to more than a fire.”

  “I’m thinking inferno proportions,” I said, as he tried to kiss me again.

  He laughed that time, as did I until his hand hit a spot that was more wet than incinerated and I sighed deeply.

  “Jeez, Gorgeous, you’re soaked. Fire out, uh?” He removed his hand and I almost cried.

  “Don’t you dare,” I muttered.

  “Don’t I dare what?” He slipped his fingers under the band of my panties and brushed across me, but pulled back again. My lower body was beginning to ache. I might have even whimpered.

  “Lila, do you want me?”

  “Yes,” I breathed.

  “How badly?”

  My head had been tipped back, and I looked at him to see what he meant. His voice was more serious than I expected.

  “Very badly. But not if you don’t want to,” I said hesitantly, quietly. My passion was slipping and I wanted to cry.

  “Does this feel like I don’t want you?” He forced my hand to touch him over his jeans. He was solid and I squeezed him, even after he let go of me.

  “No,” I choked.

  “I want it to be for all the right reasons.”

  I swallowed hard. He was turning me down. I sagged a little under him.

  “I’m a selfish man, Lila. And I’d like to ask you for the biggest…the only thing I want for Christmas.”

  I stared at him, my mouth suddenly dry, and liquid blurred my eyes. I was so turned on and he was about to ask me to stop. I knew it.

  “I’d like to have you, Lila. A very special part of you. For me. Only me. For Christmas. Right here under the tree that we decorated together.”

  The tear escaped and slowly slid down my face to my ear.

  “Why are you crying? You don’t have to do anything you don’t want,” he said tenderly, as he wiped the stream leading down my face.

  “Because I’d like to give you me for Christmas,” I whispered.

  He kissed me sweetly, but it quickly deepened as I tried to relax from my panic moments before. He pulled up the hem of my shirt and made fast work of removing it. His palm traced down over my body and his eyes followed the trail.

  “You are incredibly gorgeous, Lila. Not only on the outside, but the inside as well. I want to unwrap you for Christmas. I want to be in you and feel that gorgeous surround me.”

  His words left me speechless. His hand slipped around to unhook my bra, drawing it forward slowly, as if he was unwrapping a present and taking his time to find the surprise underneath. His joy was newfound when his mouth hit my hard nipple and sucked me even harder. His thumb and forefinger tweaked my opposite breast, and then he switched to allow each their equal attention. He kissed down my stomach and used his teeth to remove part of my panties. Dragging them back slowly and rubbing his nose along my skin before using his hands to remove them completely. He again took his time, as if discovering tortuously slowly the prize inside the box.

  He rubbed his hands up my legs then spread them to look down at me.

  “I want to taste you again, but I have to wait. I need to be inside you. Now.”

  His eyes stayed trained on the apex of my legs as he made faster work of removing his own jeans and underwear. He lay at the entrance of me for a moment and I stiffened.

  “I’m using a condom. Just let me feel you for a moment before I slip it on. I want nothing between us for just one minute.” He closed his eyes as he guided his head through my folds. I opened my legs wider for him. I sensed I was moistening his already wet tip.

  “Lila?” He looked at me with both a question and a plea. I should have said no. My brain told me to say no. But my mouth said yes.

  He slipped inside me with an exaggerated force, then he stilled. It was slow and I held tight as it had been a long time for me.

  “Lila,” he groaned, “you feel amazing. Gorgeous. Gorgeous inside.” He sighed in the ecstasy he felt as I surrounded him and he filled me. A tear escaped my eye again and he looked down at me.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked softly, kissing the tear away and licking another with the tip of his tongue. “Am I hurting you?”

  I was overwhelmed. Overwhelmed with his words. Overwhelmed with his body. Overwhelmed with what we were doing. I couldn’t answer him.

  I moved my hips upward and his eyes opened wider. The brightness that signaled his desire was reflected in the low twinkling lights of the tree. He began to move. Dragging himself to the edge of me, then impaling me with cautious forward motion. He repeated that several times until my hands gripped his hips. I tilted my pelvis in a way that forced him deeper into me.

  “Lila?” he moaned. I was beginning to meet him thrust for tempting thrust. Pulse for pleasurable pulse. We gradually increased as if we were totally in sync with each other. It was like I wasn’t sure who moved first, who was leading. We danced almost. My hips circled and his pushed forward, and I’d never felt so connected to someone in all my life.

  Lansing watched me as if taking note of things, but I was lost to him. I was lost within him. The sensation of him all around me and in me. It was slow and delicate and building. The flames were growing and it was delicious.

  “Lansing,” I breathed, as I held his hips and wrapped my ankles over his calves. He hooked his hand under one knee and brought it higher over his hip. He was suddenly deeper, filling me. His hand slipped between us and I kept my knee raised as he pressed against my nub and I saw stars. I burst forth on a sweet orgasm that dragged on and on and on. It wasn’t slowing, when Lansing warned me that he was close.

  “I’ll pull out,” he warned, and I knew what his concern was. It would be mine too if my brain was working, but it wasn’t. Only my body did what it felt was right at that moment.

  He did pull out quickly, and he lay against my stomach, releasing his seed over me. My mind was slowly catching up to what I’d done. What I’d let him do.

  “Holy shit,” he said. I thought he meant the fact we’d just gone bare on the first time together.

  He fell forward putting the full weight of himself over me and sealing us together with the spread of him between us.

  “That was so intense,” he said against my neck. “You are the most gorgeous woman…ever.”

  I relaxed under him as his weight crushed me in a pleasant way. He pulled up to his elbows and loo
ked down at me. He searched my face, looking for something. When he didn’t find it, he smiled and a dimple exposed.

  “Merry Christmas, Lila.”

  “Merry Christmas, Lansing.”

  There’s that saying about feeling like a kid on Christmas morning. I felt that way and it was Christmas morning. Christmas Eve morning, and I was looking forward to having the best Christmas I could remember, since I was a kid. Fleur was a bundle of energy since she felt better. The tree was fully decorated. The lights lit. We had a late breakfast and spent the day watching holiday movies. It was very family-ish and I had to laugh a Galehaut’s nickname for us: family.

  That night we exchanged one present. Lila said it had been a custom in her family to exchange on Christmas Eve and Santa visited overnight. She renewed the tradition with Fleur, despite their small family. I’d spoiled Fleur, and Lila let me have a part in being Santa. She was going to get an American Girl baby and a stroller from the big man. I was thrilled to be part of the excitement.

  I had more gifts for Lila, as well.

  “You already gave me the dining room table,” she said, confused when I pushed a box toward her.

  “Just open it.”

  Her eyes widened as she took out the extra attachments she needed for her camera. In a way, I wanted to give her this gift to show that I supported her work, and I forgave her. She didn’t need my forgiveness per se. We’d already established that she didn’t have a direct link to Arturo’s accident, but I needed her to know I had let it go. I think she needed to know it, too.

  “This is too much,” she said under her breath, looking at the various packages and implements I’d placed all in one box.